


Aim and Fire

by TheNameIsErronBlack



Category: No Fandom, Original Work
Genre: F/M, Fantasy Romance, Light-Hearted
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-12-24
Updated: 2019-05-21
Packaged: 2019-09-25 23:20:56
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 17,335
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17130626
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheNameIsErronBlack/pseuds/TheNameIsErronBlack
Summary: A young knight and a warrior princess spend the night together





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> This is an excerpt from a fantasy romance novel I'm writing. It's about a young knight and a princess teaming up to save the world. He's always liked her and she not-so-secretly starts to like him.

Christopher was, as predicted, a complete moron. Deceiving him was so easy, she almost felt a scrap of pity for the young man.

Ducking beneath rogue branches and carefully watching for anything that threatened to trap her, Caitlin gracefully fled through the forest proper towards her true destination. If destiny smiled upon her, Christopher the knight would soon return to her father and inform him of her intention to arrive at Salvis Topar within the next two days. The King would send an emissary to retrieve her from the Silver Kingdom, giving her just enough time to return with. If fate truly desired to have things go her way, perhaps her father would have the knight exiled or, better still, executed for failing to protect her.

The dark blue of the sky gave way to complete darkness. There was no way he could find her now. Caitlin decided to sit down, legs crossed, near a creek for a quick drink. Her deception was so utterly perfect she figured a small respite was acceptable. She cupped her hands and brought the ice cold liquid to her lips, her not quite parched mouth happily lapping up the purified water.

“Praise the Creator,” The Princess whispered to herself. “That is good.”

Above her, a bird’s wings fluttered as the animal sped away, soon lost to the darkness. Was it cruel of her to allow Christoph to fall so she could have more time? He seemed like such an earnest, honest fellow, and he swore and oath to serve her father. In all likelihood, her father would deem him worthy of mercy, and, if not, she could convince him his failure stemmed from ineptitude rather than malice, unworthy of exile or death.

“I’m beginning to think you don’t like me very much.”

With the reflexes of a starved wolverine, Caitlin was on her feet, an arrow aimed directly at the source of the disturbance. Relief quickly gave me to anger, as it was _him,_ arms crossed and an insufferably smug expression on his face.

“How did you find me?” She asked.“You’re not the only one who can track a target, Princess Faraday.” Jamie said as she considered the probability of someone discovering his body out here. Caitlin could only stand there mystified. How could she have been so inept as to let this buffoon track her down like some sort of bear? If this bumbling moron could hunt her with a rudimentary understanding of warfare, that meant she might’ve possibly overestimated her own abilities.

Jamie uncrossed his arms and moved closer to her. “I swore an oath to protect the people of Amorado, and that includes you.” She backed up in response, an arrow still trained at his face.

“You know there’s a difference between courageous and stupid, Christiansen?” Caitlin asked.       

“And I’m sure you know that if I could track you down, others could just as easily. There’s a difference between courageous and stupid, yes?”

Caitlin couldn’t deny he was correct on both counts. She still harbored a powerful desire to knock the knowing look off his face, but her attention was drawn to a small pillar of smoke rising among the trees some distance away from them. Jamie turned to face it as well.

"Is that your doing?” Caitlin asked.

“I was going to ask you the same thing.” Jamie said.

Having established a temporary treaty, the two holstered their weapons and carefully made their way through the underbrush towards the fire, discovering a pair preparing a small encampment. The pale, yellow skin, smooth, hairless, and covered in blood red tattoos meant it could be only one muscle-bound creature.

“Gologs,” Caitlin whispered. “They’re undead spirits of killers, thieves and tyrant-” 

Shh.” Jamie furtively snapped at her.

She picked up some small projectile, a pinecone, and hurled it at the side of his head. “Shush me again and I’ll cut out your tongue, oaf.”

He scowled at her. “I will shush you whenever the mood strikes me.”

* * *

 

|    
---  
  
Tarvag, ya damn ingrate! Ya’ killed the fire just as it got done and wasted our mostra! Now what’re gonna drink?” Pildrough Fleakeeper berated his comrade after the fire dissipated.

“Why we even makin’ dis’ fire?” Tarvag, Carver of Faces said. “We’re supposed to be huntin’ the humans, not keepin’ em’ nice and warm!”

“Because, ya’ drakkamore, we’re gonna use it to draw em’ over here and then we're gonna kill em'!” He responded as he took a knee and got to work on starting up the fire again.

Several beats of heavy silence passed, during which Tarvag concluded he should at least attempt to remedy their relationship.

“Pildrough, you ever think there’s more to life than just killin’ and plunderin’ folks?”                                                                                                  

"How do you mean?”

“Well, once dah' thief takes up dah’ Sword of Sunlight and dah’ Mastah’ has his new vessel and rules dah’ world, what’re gonna do? You know I love tourturin’ the weak and all, but you think Mastah’ won’t have need for us? You think he’ll let me...I don’t know, paint a picture?"

"Oh, I get it,” Pildrough said. “Paintin’ a picture with the blood of yer’ enemies.”

“Not really, I mean like bein’ an artist. Like writin’ a song.”

“Writin’ a song with the screams of the weak?”

"No, dammit; I wanna do somethin’ fulfilling! See the world and write a book about my experiences!”

“About all the fleshbags you’ve slaughtered?”

“Forget it’,” Tarvag waved away the conversation. “Do ya’ think we gotta keep fightin’ if he’s gonna be at full powah’?”

Such questions were rarely considered among Golog-kind. “You wanna do somethin’ other than fightin’?” Pildrough asked, incredulous.

“Ah’ course. What? You wanna spend the rest ah’ ya’ days huntin’ a bloodeh princess and her bodyguard?”

“Mastah’ said she’s all alone. And I ain’t nevah’ hurd of her havin’ a boyfriend or anything like that.” Said Pildrough, still struggling to revive the fire.

“Then why the hell there gotta be twoa’ us? She’s a princess! Coulda’ got a slave-glog who neveh’ held an axe in his lyfe to take carea’ her!

“Princess Faraday must not be underestimated; she’s as crafty as she is ugly.”

“Yah’ think da’ princess is ugly?”

“Don’t get me mistaken’: all fleshbags sicken me to me very bein’, but she’s extra disgustin’. Please don’t tell me you got some feelins’ for her or somethin’.”

“No, no,” Tarvag said defensively putting his hands. “I just think she’s...not bad as most. Is’ weird; parta’ me wants to bring her head to mastah’, but there’s a parta’ me dat’ wanna see if she likes me’ songs.”

Tarvag’s thought quickly matured into a plan; he could very easily pick up his war-axe and decapitate Pildrough in one swift stroke. Then, when the Princess strolled by, he sing her a song. Enchanted with his voice, she’d force her father to give him a position on the court, and the whole world would gradually come to love and appreciate his music rather than fear and revile him.

“Songs?” Pildgrough asked, incredulous. “Whadya’ mean songs? You sing songs?”

Tarvag cleared his throat, preparing one of his personal favorites. “I’m afraid, Princess, that you run out of time!” The beast sang with glee. “For you now face the golog of rhyme!” He concluded with an expectant smile. Having never revealed his love of music, it took a great deal of courage to expose himself to his closest friend.

“Tarvag, listen to meh, you know da’ sun?”

“You mean dat’ big, bright thing’s always hangin’ out up above?”

"Mastah’s gonna want take over other worlds, just like dat’ one, cuz he can prolly fly with magic n’all that. And who the bloody hell knows what kinda creatures live up der-“

Pildrough’s explanation was cut short as Caitlin's arrow pierced the darkness and his heart. Before Tarvag knew what was happening, Jamie's hand covered his mouth and a dagger slid across his throat.

The Princess kicked Pildrough’s body to make sure he was down for good. “As I was saying before you interrupted me, gologs are the spirits of the dregs of society transferred into these malformed grotesqueries. Only a necromancer of considerable power could summon them.” Caitlin explained.

“I know what gologs are,” Jamie said. “And I’m sure you know something about that ‘thief taking the Sword of Sunlight’ business.”

Caitlin hesitated, clearly trying to find a worthy lie. “It’s a sword.”

“A sword?” He asked, feigning surprise.

“Yes.”

“Well, I guessed that part,” Jamie crossed his arms and gave her a skeptical look. “What’s so special about this sword?”

She let out a hefty sigh as if to tell Jamie he was actually going to get something resembling the truth. “It’s an ancient artifact capable of terrible destruction.”

“I see. And how is it that you alone have such knowledge of this Sword of Sunlight? I’ve never heard so much as a passing reference to this sword in all my years.”

The Princess paused for a moment. “It was revealed to me in a vision.”

“A vision?” He asked, almost amused.

“Do you intend to mimic everything I say as if we’re both five years of age?”

In an ideal world, the Princess would be safe in the walls of the castle back home, but it was becoming increasingly clear nothing could convince her. Even if she was a far more capable fighter than he anticipated, skulking around crypts and long forgotten temples alone in search of some mystical sword created to enslave humanity or whatever was no job for a Princess, particularly one as beautiful and intelligent as Caitlin Faraday. The fear made him more resolute than ever to assist her despite her increasingly elaborate attempts at dismissing him. In all likelihood, the two of them would do little more than wander around Amorado and the surrounding lands for a few days before she gave up her baseless dream and returned home. Hopefully, their journey would last two or three days. Of course, he spent years fantasizing about spending extended periods of time with Caitlin, but putting her in danger to satisfy his desire was both stupid and morally reprehensible.

Jamie considered the matter of his grandparents fretting over his prolonged absence, not to mention the inevitable he was in for with his commanding officer, but Caitlin was unlikely to care for such objections and asking her to meet up with him after he handled his personal affairs was out of the question. But if destiny decreed he wander aimlessly in search of a magical sword of dubious origin, Jamie wouldn’t object to having Princess Faraday as his companion. Such a condition made the prospect more than appealing.

“If this sword is a real thing..." Jamie began.

"It is." Caitlin interjected.

"If we assume this sword is a real thing and you want it so badly, why not tell your father and have the King’s Legion take care of it?” Jamie asked as he ran a hand over the thick, light brown coat of his horse. Ever reliable, the stallion met the pair at the edge of the forest, the valley stretching out before them.

“Even if he did believe me, a battalion of his soldiers moving on Biphate territory for dubious justifications would risk compromising the peace agreement.” She said.

“Then if a necromancer who can summon gologs is after it as well, will you please let me help you?” Jamie asked.

Even cloaked in darkness, he could still see the fire in her eyes, burning and consuming. “Fine.” It was almost a whisper, as if it somehow pained the Princess to concede.

As he achieved victory, a low bustling in the distance became increasingly clear. The two looked over to find Jamie’s horse and ally of many years clomp towards them.

Jamie smiled and bent down in order to boost her onto the horse. Caitlin’s athleticism was well established, but she was of average height and Malcot was quite large. “You can’t deny we make an effective partnership. Those two had no idea what-

The look of vague disgust returned to her face at the sight of his gesture. She nimbly hopped up, landing on top of  the saddle.

“Mmm,” Caitlin said examining the horse for any worth. “You’ll do. Does he have a name?”

Jamie lifted himself up and slid a leg over his compatriot. “Malcot.” He said with a hint of pride.

"He deserves nomenclature worthy of his master,” Caitlin said. “Horse, I dub you: Useless.”

Jamie rolled his eyes and imagined the snide look of satisfaction on her face. “Your wit is boundless, Princess.” He prepared to kick Malcot’s side but waited until she was properly seated. He turned back to find her looking at him, confused.

“What?” Caitlin asked.

“I can’t move until you’re firmly secured.” He said.

“I mastered the art of horseback riding when I was thirteen.”

“Most impressive, Princess, but I won’t risk your safety. I need you to put your arms around my waist.”

“Not to save your life, Christiansen. Do you take me for some empty headed maiden-in-waiting?” She snarked. “I-is this another stupid attempt to woo me? I pity the women of Amorado.” Her nervous delivery betrayed her nonchalance.

The knight shrugged. “Alright, then, I guess we have to wait.”

 The two sat atop Malcot. There wasn’t a sound beyond a bird fluttering away and the vague sound of rushing water. Eventually, Caitlin let out a sigh of resignation and wrapped her arms around Jamie’s midsection. He smiled, only slightly disappointed she didn’t rest her head on his back.

* * *

 

>  

Once they were underway, Christiansen explained the location in question was somewhere in the valleys of the Amorado's largest territory, Alechia.

Caitlin disliked the idea of stopping to rest, only partially because Christiansen was so insistent about her getting proper sleep, but it had been some time and distance since the beginning of her journey. There was no sense in trying to face a necromancer while barely awake, after all.

“So, how do you know these people?” Caitlin asked to Jamie’s back as Useless tore through the night.

“I know them because I stayed with them when I was younger from time to time. They make clothing and food, but they’ve now converted their home into a residency of sorts.”

“Oh, God,” She cackled. “Don’t tell me, is the owner’s daughter your girlfriend? She’s your childhood love or something equally pathetic, isn’t she?”

He didn’t bother with a snarky retort, so she dropped the subject.

“Even if you help me with my quest, don’t expect me to fall for you like we’re in one of those fables parents read to their children.” Caitlin said. Her servant was not a prince, and not even the most depraved dark magic could make him charming.

“I wouldn’t dream of it, Princess.” Jamie said.

“Good. Because I would never even consider you as anything other than a repulsive ogre cleverly disguised as a human. Now that I mention it, perhaps you have a firmer grasp of magic than I originally assumed.

“I think you’ll find I’m full of surprises.”

The way Useless moved with grace and speed over the dirt and trees, through the peaks and dips of the valley, Christiansen very clearly had a firm grasp on the art. The lack of sunlight had no adverse effect on their movement. Perhaps his time under her father’s command did him well.

“You’re not half bad at horseback riding, Christiansen,” She said, only then realizing it vaguely resembled a compliment. “That’s one thing in your life you perform with marginal competence. I suppose your beast-like nature has some benefits.”

“As I said, I’m full or surprises.”

* * *

 

When they were mere inches from their destination, Princess Caitlin Faraday placed her hands on the stallion, gently caressing its skin and faintly detecting its booming heart. The somewhat rugged exterior betrayed a natural ability for braving the dangers of the terrain and an unflinching devotion to its master. She knew she would have to commend him on a job well done.

“I was wrong to dub you ‘Useless’, for that title far better suits your master.” She smiled at her companion as he dismounted.

“I’ll remind you again that I am your protect-”

“I require no such protection, and if you call me your ‘lady’ one more time, I’ll split your face in two, pretty boy!” Caitlin hit back before he used that insipid word again.

He extended his arms out to her. “So, I’m prett-”

To silence the dunce before he could conclude the thought, she cleanly slid off the horse. “I mastered the art of horseback riding when I was thirteen years of age,” Caitlin was inches from his face. “My father’s best tutors said I was the most naturally gifted pupil they ever saw.” She concluded with assured finality, even if she could feel something strange stirring in her face and stomach. “And I certainly don’t need your germs anywhere near me.”

They stood there, considering each other with cutting intensity.

“Well,” Caitlin said, becoming increasingly anxious under his undivided scrutiny. “Don’t just stand there. I command you as your superior to go in first!”

Inside, the well-lit room was largely unremarkable with the exception of paintings of various dwarves of typically craggy complexion adorning the walls and a counter towards the end. Before them sat a female dwarf. Eleven feet in height with pointed ears and weighing far more than Caitlin’s mass several times over, she wore spectacles and was currently writing inscriptions in parchment with a Kefkab’s toenail.

“I say to thee, pathetic shopkeep, that you will relinquish to me your finest room for a price of my decision, that being nothing.” Jamie deepened his voice slightly to greet the woman.

“Yah, yah, shut your face and let me,” She removed her spectacles, but was rendered immobile upon seeing Jamie. “If me eyes ain’t stuffed in somethin’ disgustin’, it’s Jameson Christiansen!” She almost leaped over the counter utilizing an unnatural athleticism and greeted Jamie with a vicious, terrific hug that made Caitlin genuinely worry for his life. “How the feck are you, you little buggah’?”

“Great to see you, Mrs. O’Doerey.” Jamie squeezed out before being dropped once the dwarf made eye contact with the Princess.

“Princess Faraday!” Immediately deferential, she bent to a knee and delicately took Caitlin's hand. “I am honored to be in your very pre-”

“We’re on a top secret mission from the King,” Jamie interceded, still recovering. “So we’d very much appreciate it if you kept the bragging to a minimum for now.”

Her eyes signified revelation and compliance. “Oh,” the dwarf whispered. “We love the King in this household, and I’ll keep a thing a’ mostra in me teeth if they capture me,” The quiet was once again shattered by the raging power of her voice. “Carlot! Carlot, quit futzin’ around and get in here, we got companeh’!” She bellowed behind them, the reverberations shaking Caitlin to her very being.

“Stuff your bloodeh’ cakehole, Carlota, ya fookin’ jawdonkey, I’m comin’!” A voice from beyond called out and the ground shook as Carlot emerged from the adjacent staircase, equally titanic as his wife. “Jamie!” Once again, the knight was firmly secured in a bear-like hug after Carlot easily stepped over the boundary.

“Princee-” He said before Carlota quickly put her husband in a choke-hold, causing Jamie to drop to the floor.

“Can’t say nothin’ bout havin’ the Princess here. They’re on a top secret mission for the King hisself.”

“Oooh, secret mission. Sounds…mighty secretish’,” Her husband whispered before she released him.  “Well then!” Carlot yelled immediately after. “Since you’re our first ever customahs’, you get the best dang ol’ room in the whole place! C’mon, Jamie!” He lightly tapped him in the shoulder, nearly shattering it. “First, yah’ gotta see what we’ve been workin’ on, then I give yah' some nice clothes!”

Caitlin decided to lag behind for a moment as the two ascended the stairs, wanting to engage Carlota in further conversation.

“You have a very lovely home here, Mrs. O’Doerery.” She said.

The dwarf was utterly elated at the compliment. “Aww, that’s mighty fine of you, Princess! And don’t worry ‘bout payin’ neither. Even if Jamie weren’t family, we’d let you spend the rest of yer days here free ah’ charge. We only ask that you recommend our humble establishment to all your papa’s rich friends, eh?”

“I most certainly will,” Caitlin smiled back. “May I ask how you and your husband know Christia-uh, Jamie?”

Carlota smiled. “Me hubby and his grandaddeh’ been friends since they were the size of an apple stem; both his grandaddeh’ and his dad helped us with buildin’ this here in which we now stand, and sometimes we looked after the youngster when his papa went off to fight for the Land and his ma' had to take care with the business. The gradaddeh' runs a bakery cuz they make this bread with a bit ah’ magic, mighty delicious.”

Jamie’s reticence to reveal any portion of his history was cast into harsh illumination; didn’t want to reveal his somewhat lowly status relative to her. “What was he like in his younger years?” Caitlin asked.

Mrs. O'Doerery's smile grew even larger. “A kinder little lad never did exist in all the lands, I promise ya that. Talked to anyone bout’ anythin’, always helpin’ folks whether they ask for it or not, standin’ up for the little guys. Even as a youngster, sweet and kind as a cake bathed in chocolate,” She declared. “His parents, too; better, more handsomer' folk never walked our world,” Carlota added with a sigh. “Whole place’s a bit bleaker with em’ not around.”

A sullen silenced followed, and Caitlin felt a distinct pain at the sadness plastered across the visage before her.

“May I inquire as to what happen-”

“Ya' know, when he was just a boy,” Mrs. O’Doerey interrupted the Princess, totally unaware that the latter was speaking. “He wanted to be a knight, yes he did,” She nodded and the infectious grin returned. “It was too bloodeh’ adorable; he wanted to be a knight at eleven years ah’ age, said he’d seen the most beautiful lass in all the land. Said she’d only ever even thinka’ him if he was the strongest, most bravest warrior in the King’s Legion, that’s for true.”

Caitlin considered a thought for a moment, and she was powerless to stop its sudden exfiltration.

“Did he ever clarify as to the woman in question?” Certainly any lady who could so firmly secure Jameson’s affections must’ve been of mythical beauty.

The innkeeper suddenly brandished a sly smile. “Ahh,” She said knowingly. “He’s mighty handsome, ain’te?”

Caitlin’s mind went blank. “Uhh…” She dumbly said as Carlot returned.

“Jamie's waitin’ for ya' in your room, Miss Nonroyal.”

She said her thanks, went up the stairs, and opened the only ajar door. “You know, Christiansen, perhaps you’re not as useless as I-”

Sometning cut her off. Silencing Caitlin Faraday was no easy feat, but the horror inside was enough to render her mute, eyes wide and mouth agape.

“What?” Christiansen asked. “Is everything alright?”

“Buh...” She made an attempt at a coherent response. “I-juh...you.”

“Caitlin, what’s wrong?”

Anger got the better of her. His teasing was simply too much. “You...you don’t have clothes on! Why don’t you have clothes on?” She struggled to keep the volume down, her eyes fixated on his bare stomach.

Christiansen’s stupid face once again lit up like a comet. He dodged her gaze. “I am wearing pants, and I will remind you that you barged in here.”

Rather than allowing the dunce to continually fluster her, Caitlin slammed the door shut.  Out of sight, the image of a shirtless Christiansen was already seared into memory. The knight was far more muscular than anticipated and his stomach looked similar to one found on a marble statue of a mythical hero. Doubtless, this was yet another underhanded tactic of his to woo her, to undermine her resolve. Perhaps taking his clothes off attracted lesser women like starving wolves to meat, but the Princess would have none of such foolishness.

Still, she remained outside the room, arms crossed. Didn’t want to risk encountering further aesthetic sorcery.

Thirty seconds later, the door opened, and a mercifully fully clothed Christiansen stood before her.

“I find it helpful to knock before entering rooms. Manners are so-”

Caitlin stormed into the room, forcing him back. Once her dominance was reasserted, she turned back, sticking an index finger in his face. “Try anything like that again, and I fill you with arrows.”

She turned back, but her journey was quickly brought to an end, once again stunned by an apocalyptic revelation

“I didn’t try anything, and I’ll have you know that...what’s the problem now?” He dutifully asked.

“There’s only one bed. Will you next inquire as to the color of the sky, or can you circumnavigate that intellectual quagmire yourself?” Caitlin asked in kind.

“As anyone with eyes can easily tell,” Jamie hit back. “There’s more than enough space for two humans, although I can sleep on the floor if I truly repulse you. Perhaps we can use my sword as a buttress”

Caitlin waved the idea away. “No, no, I’m a fair superior…just don’t get any funny ideas. And don’t even think about crossing over into my portion.”

“How am I supposed to know which is your portion?”

“You’ll figure it out.”

Caitlin could sense’s her partner’s gaze as she moved towards the lone window providing a view of the valley beyond and removed her boots. She again scowled at his lack of manners. “Turn around!” She nervously said. “I can’t change if you’re drooling at me like some sort of monkey!” It was only removing her boots, but they needed to establish essential rules.

“I’m sorry, Princess. I promise I’m not some sort of barbarian.” He said.

She _tsk_ ed. “You’re indistinguishable from one. Get a different sword, and you would be the genuine article,” Caitlin said, still waiting for Christiansen to comply. “Turn around!”

* * *

 

Carlota knocked on the door to room thirteen. Perhaps checking in on the pair would interfere in the whole ‘lovey-dovey’ portion of their evening, but maintaining her vow of dispassion as a host was impossible. Jamie and Caitlin were cuter than two puppy dogs licking each other’s faces under a rainbow.

A gentle knock at the door. “Hello in there, it’s Carlota. Mind if I drop in?”

“Come in.” Jamie’s muffled voice called out.

The dwarf stepped in with an uncontrollably bright smile. They weren’t cuddled up next to once another just yet, but young love needed time to grow. “I got a night gown for me most favorite princess in all the land. Can I getcha’ anythin’ else? Midnight snack? Some mead, perhaps?”

“That's quite alright, Mrs. O’Doerery. I think we’re both fine.” The Princess said, walking up an accepting her gift.

“Aw, thank you, Miss Faraday. I hope you two don’t mind the livin’ arrangements. I promise you this is the best bed in the whole dang country. We wanted the very best for the Princess of Amorado and our most favorite knight in the whole world.” Carlota made her way out to get to some sleep of her own. Having seen fit to the comfort of her treasured guests, she found her husband reading on his side of their over-sized bed after wishing Jamie and Caitlin a lovely night of rest.

“How ya’ think we doin’ so far?” He asked.

Carlota plopped into her equally massive bed. “Pretty good, if I do say so meself’,” She pulled the covers over her body. “We only gettin’ a few hours a rest.”

Her husband looked over from the book he was reading. “Why in the name of our King we doin’ that?”

“Because,” She continued. “We gonna make a big ol’ meal for the two ah’ them. They’re our guests, and they deserved it.”

“Can’t we just give em’ a couple snacks and send em’ on their way? Why we gotta give em’ a whole meal?”

Beginning to become frustrated with Carlot’s objections, she turned over to face him. “Do you wanna have dah’ Princess tell her father we sent her home with just a’ couple a’ snacks? When the two of em’ get married, ya’ think King Benjamin’s gonna call us up to cater if we treated his daughter like she was some common underling?”

There was no retort. “Alright. Is’ a good thing I love the two of em’ so much, otherwise I’d be catchin’ up on me damn sleep. Speakin’ ah which’, yah’ think it was a bad idea putin’ Jamie n’the Princess together in the same bed like we did?” Her husband asked.

“You know I love Jamie like he was me’ own, but the boy ain’t never gonna confess his love for her without a little push.” She began.

“Ya think so?” He asked.

“Course. He’s always been a tad shy, ‘specially around pretty ladies. And you know he’s had a case a tha’ cold kindopas for her since they was nothin’ but children.”

“I know dat’, just wonderin’ if the Princess’ll be receptive to him.” Carlot said.

“Are you daft? We prolly gonna get a special thanks from the King for findin’ his next prince. The way she was lookin’ at him, that gurl’ is as dumb for him as he is for her. Bet this whole place on it.”

Carlot took off his glasses and put his book down. “You don’t think Jamie will do nothin’ stupid? You know I love the whole family, but I ain’t lookin’ to get me head severed for treason against the kingd-”

“Jamie’s the biggest sweetheart a mortal soul ever saw, but if I hear that he gave that lass any bit a’ trouble, if he do the tiniest thing she don’t like, may the Creator take his hands. If he’s any less than a perfect gentleman, I’ll chop em’ off meself.”

* * *

 

With her swift reflexes, she was out of her thief’s garb and in the O’Doerery’s night gown before that slovenly dullard Christiansen knew what was what. Safe from his curious eyes, she slipped beneath the covers and shuffled towards her edge of the bed, quietly praising the dwarves for their kindness and taste in mattresses. Whatever material made up the bulk of its interior, she desperately needed as much as allowed. Her drained body freely sunk into the warm embrace of the bed.

“Is it safe to turn around?” Jamie asked.

A moment passed. Her comfort took priority over his, after all. “Yes.”

“Good night, Caitlin.” She heard him ask once he was settled in.

That was unexpected. What was he hoping to get out of telling her to have a good night? What was wrong with him? The Princess mulled over how to respond. Was it the start to another of their snarky exchanges, or a genuine wish for her happiness?

“Good night...” She considered adding his last name to her response, but thought better of it. Perhaps her optimism was misplaced, but part of her wanted to believe in his honor as a knight.

* * *

 

 Jamie assumed it to be a seventy-thirty division in her favor and he didn’t want to test her vowing to stick a blade in his throat if he so much as motioned inappropriately towards her. Where Caitlin hid the blade in her evening wear courteously provided by the O’Doerery’s other side business was a mystery he had no intention of trying to solve. Despite the threat of a sudden and violent death looming just across the bed, the Princess was safe, and he was on his way to a deserved rest. After toiling through the dangers of life and putting up with the Princess’ ceaseless onslaught of insults and putdowns, one couldn’t ask for much more. There was also the fact that the woman of his dreams was willingly sleeping in the same bed with him. Niles would almost certainly chastise him for not immediately taking things further, but Jamie held no such desires. Even if Caitlin Faraday wasn’t a woman of great sophistication, charm and intelligence, that component of the relationship needed time to develop. For now, he was simply grateful for her company.

 Some minutes later, his peaceful existence was once again interrupted.

“Hey.” A whisper he opted to ignore. If the Princess wanted something, it could wait until morning.

“Hey!” A slightly louder whisper and a finger tapping him several times on the shoulder followed.

There was no getting out of this one. Jamie slowly turned over to find the Princess looking at him with her usual intensity. “What?”

“It’s bloody freezing in here. Is there no form of temperature control in this place?” Caitlin said.

“What do you suppose I should do?” Jamie asked, even though it really was rather cold. “Force a pair of dwarves to upend-”

“No, no, that’s not what I meant, don’t be obtuse, just...” Eye contact was lost. “If you tell anyone about this, I will have you executed at dawn for the whole Kingdom to see.”

“And what did you have in mind?” He was smirking, but he genuinely had no idea what she was going to ask.

Caitlin Faraday looked as if she to shortly undergo anesthetic free-teeth removal in the middle of the most horrible busking competition ever performed.

“I suppose it wouldn’t be so awful if you...put your arms around me. So we could huddle up for warmth. And nothing else.

The smirk blossomed into an ear-to-ear smile. “For you, my Princess? Anything.”

The Princess scooched over, so Jamie put an arm around her the back of her neck. Despite his outwardly bold expression, he felt more than a bit apprehensive about holding Caitlin, let alone touching her. Once she was done adjusting herself, she settled her head on his shoulder, forcing him to realize that she was extremely warm and had a curiously Earthly smell to her. Not like dirt or something repulsive, but the intensely familiar smell of blossoming flowers and the serenity of nature. Lilacs. Jamie’s chest tightened and he wondered if she could feel his heart go _thumpathumpathumpa._

“I’m not made of glass, Christiansen.”

He looked at her. “Is everything alright?”  

She rolled her eyes. “I give you permission to actually hold me, not what you’re doing right now, whatever it is.”

Caitlin had a point; his fingers were barely touching her frame, as if the slightest misstep on his part would shatter her. To try and remedy her discomfort, he more fully wrapped his arm around her, delicately pulling her closer to him.

“Is this better?” He asked, his voice not being nearly as steady as he hoped.

“Better.”

Jamie was open to the possibility that this was all some vision or an extremely elaborate hallucination. Journeying across the land with the woman of his dreams was one thing, but having her curled up next to him in bed was something he never would’ve considered in his most lavish, far-flung fantasies. He felt compelled to completely pull her next to him, to completely break the border separating their bodies, but he lacked the temerity to test his supply of luck. The woman he fell in love with all those years ago was practically cuddling with him as they both fell asleep. If he wasn’t so mortally terrified of overstepping his boundaries and, to a lesser extent, being murdered, he’d be ecstatic.

Still, there was something exceptionally endearing about having the ferocious, tough-as-steel warrior princess curled up next to him in her evening gown. One didn’t need precognitive abilities to determine that she preferred to keep people at arm’s length, so he considered it something of a milestone to have reached this side of her. Sure, she dispensed insults like they were linked to some sort of plague, but he got the sense she enjoyed his company, at least marginally more so than she would ever willingly admit.

“If you don’t mind my asking, Princess,” Jamie said. “Did you change your hair?”

“Yes,” She said. “You’re very observant.”

He smiled. “May I ask why?”

Caitlin inhaled deeply, gently draping an arm over Jamie’s side. “It’s more difficult to grab if it’s short and the darker color helps me blend in at night. I never really liked long hair, I had it mostly to appease my mother. You know how she gets, delegate this and look good for ceremonies that. It’s all rather dreadful.”

That certainly made sense. Jamie suspected the princess possessed an ambivalent-to-hostile relationship with being perceived as ‘girly’, but the role demanded certain things from her with little room for compromise. Although chopped short and black as raven’s feathers was the superior option when it came to combating the forces of evil, he was having trouble deciding which he preferred from an aesthetic perspective. Both made her look positively angelic, and she would doubtless look similarly wondrous in any styling. Caitlin could be in a full set of chain-mail armor covered in Golog blood and still look fantastic. If he were a more confident man, he’d most likely tell her that. If he couldn’t confess that he found her attractive in certain respects, he’d never be able to go beyond that.

“You don’t need my permission to ask a question,” Caitlin said, clearly on her way to the land of dreams. “And you don’t need to refer to me as Princess.”

“Oh,” Jamie said. “Okay. Whatever you desire.”

Caitlin was just so damn cute, even more so when she was tired. She was warm, smelled nice, and that sleepy voice of hers just made him want to squeeze her tight and never relent. If he were an utterly senseless man, he’d definitely tell her that. The first comment might get him a stern look because it could conceivably be taken as a compliment to her skill as a warrior, but telling a ferocious warrior princess she was adorable would certainly earn him a dagger to the chest.

"I think you look beautiful in either hairstyle.”

A chill worthy of the Old Guardsmen of Winter’s Calling overtook Jamie’s body and his heart ceased to function for a few moments as he prepared for a well deserved demise.

“I-I’m sorry, Caitlin,” He pleaded for mercy. “I don’t know why I said that. I mean, not to imply you _don’t_ look angelic in either style, you could wear your hair any way you want and look fantastic, I was just suggesting that you-uh, that you.” When no form of swift vengeance arrived, he shut up. Amazingly, he received no form of response beyond the gentle rhythm of her breathing and the movement of her chest. Jamie closed his eyes and let his head fall on the pillow, grateful his companion slept through the confession.

Several minutes later, once she was certain Christiansen was asleep, Caitlin looked up at him, smiling.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This chapter takes place some time after the previous one.

The Garon Woods were seeped in a light fog and lacked the wide open, unobstructed paths of the Eastern Forest. Useless, the mighty, chestnut colored steed, moved at a far slower pace over the partially buried roots and stones. After fighting off a dozen or so bloodthirsty gologs at the O'Doerery home, a relaxing trot beneath a chorus of birds was a welcome treat. Plus, now that they weren't under attack by axe-wielding abominations of dark magic or overly-inquisitive innkeepers, it was the perfect time to uncover the identity of Christiansen's lady love.

Not that Caitlin held any sort of genuine interest in Christiansen's romantic life, or anything like that. And she most certainly did not hope to actually _be_ the mystery woman. Caitlin would sooner marry Charles Pipeon, Idiot Prince of Terstra Istara, or an exceptionally articulate golog before she would ever consider the possibility of Jamie Christiansen as a partner. Still, if gently prodding at his secret love was enough to turn his cheeks a delicious crimson, what torment might she unleash with knowledge of the knight's crush, especially if it turned around to be her?

Now Caitlin was starting to worry herself. Why was the thought so invasive? There was no way Christiansen could actually be in love with her. He certainly didn't look like someone she thought would lack confidence around women, but all the evidence indicated he had difficulty mustering the courage to even talk with the target of his affections. If he did in fact hold some desire for her, he would've inadvertently tipped his hand by this point, right?

Although, if such feelings did exist, it was entirely possible he taking extra care to suppress them given that she was a princess, her father was his boss, and he was essentially her bodyguard. All the time she spent belittling him probably didn't help matters, either. After all, when approaching someone you found appealing, a constant barrage of insults and put-downs about their lack of intelligence and social skills was a method formally recognized by history as the perfect way to gain their favor.

Pushing the pessimistic thoughts out of her head, Caitlin prepared to strike. Christiansen had nowhere to run.

"So," She spoke up to make sure he heard her. "The dwarves are quite something, aren't they?"

"They've been kind to me for as long as I've known them."

The Princess wasted no time getting to the point. "Correct me if I'm mistaken, but I believe Carlot mentioned something about you being hopelessly in love with a terribly unlucky young woman."

When Christiansen didn't immediately strike back with a snarky retort, she envisioned the look of dread on his face with remarkably clarity. "I don't know if you noticed, but Carlot O'Doerery says a lot of things," His wavering tone betrayed an obvious anxiety. "She says many things at an unreasonably fast pace, none of which can be taken seriously. The same for his wife."

The deflection was far too elaborate. "Mmm, so you really are in love with this mystery girl," Caitlin said. "For how long?"

A brief pause. "Since I was eleven."

Almost too easy. "Would I know her?"

"Really, I don't think that's any of your business-" A pause. "Most likely not." He said in a far more conciliatory manner.

"Does she live in Amorado?"

"Yes."

"Where, specifically?"

"You amuse me, Caitlin."

"How old is she?"

"Why are you so curious?"

"Watching you squirm is endlessly entertaining," Caitlin said. "The mere mention of this woman is enough to turn you into a lovestruck teenager and I'm so curious to know what about her strikes your fancy. What's she like?"

"That's a rather broad question."

"Is she intelligent? Beautiful? Charming? What made you fall for her in the first place? What do your grandparents think of her?"

"She is...all of those things. I fell for her beauty, but she possesses so much more," He said dreamily. "My grandparents adore her almost as much as I do. I suspect they dislike my inability to...pursue her, for lack of a better word."

"Please tell me you're going to inform her of your feelings some time soon."

"There are many, many practical reasons for keeping the truth a secret, Miss Faraday."

As predicted, Christiansen was miserably awful with women, but at least she was starting to get somewhere. "I can already tell nothing will convince you to rise above your wimpish nature, Christiansen, so how about I get things going for you? To reward your subservience. I'm sure a few good words from the future Queen of Amorado would go a long way."

"And what makes you think I lack the courage to assert my desire?"

The Princess cleared her throat to prepare an impression of Carlot's baritone. "The boy's always been a bit shy, 'specially around pretty girls, and he's been in love evah' since he was a weed lad."

"Have you ever considered a career in the theatere? That was genuinely impressive. But I'll have you know I absolutely have courage. You've seen me in a fight, why would I fear talking to an attractive woman more than the threat of capture or death?"

"I don't know. I was hoping you'd answer that question for me." Caitlin said cooly.

"Well, I don't," The investigation was clearly getting under his skin. "You'll be disappointed to hear I've spoken several times with P-"

He hesitated, but it was too late. "So her name starts with P?" The Princess asked with a wicked smirk. It wasn't much to go on, but Amorado was a large country, and whatever helped narrow the hunt was critical. Priscilla? Pamela?

"You're quite crafty, Caitlin," He was really starting to get annoyed. "But there is no way I'm letting you anywhere near," He paused again. "Don't even try to get her identity out of me, it'll never work "

His anguish was the sweetest nectar. "Either you tell me where I can find her, or you spend the rest of your days pining for your lady love."

"I fail to see how those are the only available options." Christiansen said.

"You're far too timid to get the romance underway, so you're going to need help from someone who actually knows something about women. I can't assist unless you introduce me to this young lady. You know, I planned on stopping by your grandparents' farm when all this was over, perhaps they will be more open to revealing the truth to their future queen if I-"

Without warning, Useless reared, bolting his front legs up into the air and narrowly dodging a glistening blade which embedded itself in the spot where he once stood. Caitlin threw her arms around Christiansen's midsection and bolted her legs to the horse's side to prevent sliding off. She looked up and found a figure in dark, blue hood standing on a tree branch. The assailant held her hand out and the blade flew back up into it, as if ordered to by its master.

"That's far enough, criminal scum," She called to them before gracefully dismounting her perch and landing in front of them without a sound. "I am Odonia, Blade of the Melsera clan," Her blades were shorter than regular swords but longer than daggers. "And I offer one chance at surrender."

With the hood now removed, Caitlin knew this was no ordinary assassin. The slightly pointed ears, deep, cobalt blue eyes, and bright blond hair: they were dealing with a Novarian. No small wonder she managed to sneak up on them.

Christiansen cleared his throat. "I am Jameson Christiansen of King Benjamin Faraday's legion. I am escorting this young woman as her protector-"

"Yours is the lowest of all cretins," Novarians were notoriously short on patience when it came to doling out justice. "Betraying your oaths of fealty for the love of a common thief."

The knight's face once again burned. "I-I don't...what?"

"This attempt at deception is almost pitiful, your desire for this criminal radiates off of you," Odonia said angrily. "No doubt you have helped her escape justice because she has charmed you into servitude!"

Recognizing that the task of diffusing the situation was now on her, Caitlin dismounted the horse and removed her hood. "I am Princess Caitlin Faraday of Amorado," She declared. "We have committed no crime and hold no quarrel with you."

Odonia's anger washed away as she recognized the truth. "I seek your forgiveness for my insulting words, most gracious and just Princess Faraday," She took a knee and put a fist to her chest. "Had I known you were merely encased in a brilliantly crafted disguise, I would never have made such statements against your honor and that of your male companion."

Caitlin let out a heavy sigh of relief. She was fairly certain the two of them were a match for the Novarian, but felt no desire to test the theory. "It's quite alright, Odonia. We only ask that you-

A shout from an unfamiliar voice silenced her. "You hear that lads? A princess!"

Caitlin reflexively readied her bow and found a gaggle of bandits, eight or nine in total, encircling her. Each was uglier than the last, with horrifically scarred faces and avaricious hunger in their eyes.

"The Eeldaroon clan," Odonia said. "I will give you marauders one chance at surrender."

Caitlin was only vaguely familiar with the name, but if memory served, they were a group of bandits from the Northern deserts. They must've been tracking Odonia for her priceless clothing and weapons.

The voice continued. "Forget the Novarian, we take the princess, we're set for life. You know how much her daddy will pay if we take her alive? And we'll prolly' just kill her anyway!" He concluded with a hearty chuckle.

"Couple ah' Novarians killed me' parents when they was just tryin' to make their lot in life robbin' folks too stupid to look after their own, and we been lookin' for this one for ages," A new but similarly repulsive voice behind Caitlin intoned. "We can't let her go."

"We'll take her head as a trophy," This one was a female with a face-mask and a bow currently aimed at Caitlin. "The pretty boy's, too."

"It's nice to see heartless killers are accepting of all applicants." The Princess. "I'll distract her, you and Odonia take care of the rest."

"Are you sure?" Christiansen asked, assessing the threat.

"These morons need me alive, they'll have to hold back. Don't worry about me so much, Christiansen, I was trained by the best." She snarked before firing an arrow her adversary barely dodged.

"Kill em' all!" Caitlin dashed into the underbrush towards her target as the knight and Novarian engaged the others, a storm of clashing steel shattering the stillness of the woods.

"We'll see how much you like your boyfriend when I slice his handsome face after I'm done with you, Princess," The Eeldaroon called out. Caitlin just barely peeked out from the cover of a tree as an arrow zipped past her. "Then maybe we'll send mama couple ah' yah' fingers to start."

"I'll have your tongue for those words, wretch." Her male counterparts were obviously too clumsy and stupid to master the art of archery and she must've been all too enthusiastic about letting them get into the thick of things. Engage her in close quarters, and she'd likely crumble. Caitlin scurried out from safety towards an adjacent tree, ducking and dodging another series of arrows.

"Wonder what papa will think when her precious daughter's hangin' around with the scum ah' the Ear-"

Before she could finish yet another vile thought, Caitlin lunged at her target, only to be caught mid-flight by a punch to the stomach from a previously unseen force.

"Anyone who touches my Maris 'cept me loses a limb. Mommy and daddy are gonna know you died in agony." Tolger said, following up his initial attack with a boot to the stomach.

"Aw, what's wrong, Princess?" Maris spat. "Need yah' boyfriend to save you?"

As Tolger prepared another kick, Caitlin dodged away, narrowly avoiding the blow. When he crouched down to grab her, she used his shoulders to vault over the pair. Tolger whipped around and charged, but Caitlin was able to roll over his back, and the bandit collided with a tree. She had little time to be amused as the much taller Maris grabbed her by the waist.

"I got the brat! Knock her out already!"

As an increasingly enraged Tolger stomped over, fist cocked, Caitlin slid out the dagger hidden in her sleeve and jammed it in Maris' side. She cried out in pain and partially loosened her hold, giving Caitlin just enough time to swing her body up and kick Tolger in the face. He let out an angered cry before going for another punch at the Princess which instead knocked Maris to the ground. Tolger barely had time to process what transpired before an arrow ended his thieving exploits.

Not wasting any time, the Princess hustled towards the epicenter of the chaos to assist her comrades. As she gracefully rushed over rogue branches and downed trees, her journey was soon interrupted by a flurry of slashes from a new attacker she dodged with a nimble back-flip before halting the sword with her bow. With unkempt black hair and bloodshot eyes, she glared at Caitlin with murderous frenzy.

"Forget the money," Lilandar said, her voice low and even. "For killin' Maris and Tolger, I just want you dead, and I won't break a sweat on you, girl."

She leaned back and lunged with a scream of unbridled rage, but her thirst for vengeance left her unprepared for Caitlin's knee striking her stomach. The Princess landed two thunderous punches to her face before drop kicking her target, both boots sending her tumbling into mud. She leapt back up to her feet, pressed her heel to Lilandar's throat, and fired a lethal arrow.

When she was certain no further hostiles would descend on her, Caitlin raced through the trees and back to her allies. At their original meeting spot, the Princess found the knight and Novarian had disposed of most of their enemies. Odonia wrenched her daggers from one as Christiansen smacked another in the face with his shield, sending him flying into a tree. The battle was over.

"It's nice to see you can handle yourself in one respect, Christiansen." She commented, greatly pleased to see him alive.

He gave her an amused look. Despite some minor bruises and cuts, he still looked effortlessly fine. "I survived this long without you, Caitlin. I think that I can-"

Before he could finish his retort, a lone survivor emerged from a high bush and secured Jamie in his grip, holding a dagger to his throat. Caitlin and Odonia had their weapons out, directed at their bloodied, panting target.

"Either I'm getting outta' here, or I open pretty's boy throat." He started backing up with Jamie in tow, his eyes frantically jumping between the two.

The rage boiling in the base of Caitlin's stomach threatened to combust. Perhaps she would've let him run on the basis of saving time, but now that he put Jamie in danger like this, his life was forfeit. It took all her strength not to put one right between his eyes, but she couldn't risk it with her companion's life at risk and the foul creature's erratic movements.

The next moment, the creature let out a pained scream and released Jamie, giving Caitlin the perfect opportunity to put one right in his ugly brow. The Princess didn't notice Odonia's blade remove itself from the thief's back as she rushed to the fallen knight's side.

"Are you alright?" She cupped his cheeks and forced his gaze. When he did nothing but stare at her, eyes wide, Caitlin yelled at him. "Tell me you're alright!"

"I'm fine." He almost whispered.

As the intensity of the situation wore off, Caitlin at last recognized she was uncomfortably close to Jamie with her hands on his face. She felt her own face light up as she removed her hold and dodged his gaze.

"Good," She said, returning to her feet. "I need you," Why on Earth did she choose those words? "For a little while longer. You've proven you're not totally useless."

Her embarrassment only magnified when she realized Odonia was present for the exchange. It was impossible to determine if she was smiling at the awkwardness of the encounter or because they were all alive. "Your courage and loyalty are without equal, Princess Faraday, and you as well, Jameson of the Christiansen clan. As a means of repaying your kindness, I offer you both the assistance of my blades. I pledge to stand with you until your enemies are but a smoldering ruin."

As good an excuse as any move on from that. "That is very kind of you, Odonia, but Ja-Christiansen is the only assistance I require."

"If that is your wish, however the debt remains intact," She said as she removed her hood. "It is my insistence that you take this as a monument to our newly forged friendship."

The Princess took the garment, its full frame as radiant as its owner. She felt a bit strange trading away her current garb, a birthday present custom made by her sister, but this gift most likely provided the wearer with an even greater level of protection. Lilith would understand.

"I'm going to get changed somewhere over there," Her tone returned to its usual level of steady snark. "Should Christiansen attempt to catch a glimpse of me, Odonia, I give you permission to stick a blade in his heart."

"It is extremely unlikely he would do such a thing, but I shall comply with your command." The warrior said with a soft smile.

* * *

Jamie could only roll his eyes as he watched her walk. As if he needed further motivation to respect Caitlin's privacy. Once the Princess of Amorado was hidden among the trees, he turned to find Odonia looking at him with a suggestive grin.

"The fates have smiled upon you, Jameson," She said. "Few enjoy the romantic companionship of a woman as beautiful and fearsome as Caitlin Faraday."

"That's not true…unfortunately," Jamie said. "Uh, about me being her romantic companion."

Odonia looked somewhat confused. "Am I incorrect in observing this is Caitlin Faraday, Princess of Amorado? She is the one to whom you wish to give intense feelings of romance, yes? The woman you find so enchanting that you lose control of your mental faculties when you gaze upon her?"

"Yes, she is," Jamie interjected to silence his new friend. "And she must not know that."

"I fail to understand. Why must Caitlin remain unaware of her identity as heir to the Queen? Surely she must prepare for the responsibility."

One needed to be clear as a shimmering Summer's day when dealing with Novarians. "Caitlin can't know I...appreciate her in that way," Confessing his love while serving as her bodyguard went against every principle of the King's Legion and basic logic. "Actually, I hold no romantic feelings for Caitlin Faraday. She is no more attractive to me than a...than anything else in the world." If telling a warrior princess she was adorable would earn him a punch to the face and a broken nose, Jamie could only speculate what level of violence might follow him telling her 'I've admired you for the past ten years'.

"Is that so? You believe the fair princess to be without merit?"

It wasn't proper to besmirch Caitlin, even if it was in jest and impossibly far away from his true feelings on the matter. "Fine, I admit that was a lie. I really like her- I mean, I really like her face- the way she so fearlessly faces the forces of evil!"

Odonia was clearly enjoying his flustered protests. "I am a Novarian, but I know certain things of human culture and attraction. One such aspect is that males will demonstrate a fondness for staring at the legs and backsides of females they desire."

Jamie felt his face flush at the implication, and her knowing smile turned his legs turn to jelly. "I-I am honor-bound to protect the Princess of Amorado!" He whispered to prevent Caitlin from hearing. "She is as crafty as she is beautiful and already tried to kill me once before, so watching Caitlin is of utmost importance to both my and her protection."

The warrior crossed her arms, maintaining her smile. "Is there not a human expression about disliking a lady's departure but enjoying the view of her physical form?"

The knight remained utterly silent. Was he really so obvious that little more than a glance was enough to communicate his feelings? One didn't need to know him for very long to determine that Jamie greatly enjoyed looking at the Princess. The night prior, he had to consciously tear his eyes away from her toned, muscular legs, and the image of her in that night gown was seared into memory. Beyond feeling disgusted with his own behavior, Jamie knew continuing to indulge his desire was grossly inappropriate. If he continued to look at her as a woman, a witty, smart, charming, impossibly gorgeous woman, everything would be compromised. Perhaps continually denying the truth to others and insulting the Princess was a less than optimal balancing act, but it was for the best.

"My knowledge of human courtship is limited, but I believe not informing her of your desire will lead to the opposite of your preferred outcome," Odonia continued, amused by Jamie's reaction. "Are you unaware that the Princess carries within her similar thoughts of affection directed at you? She is more capable of masking her emotions, far more so than you, but it is undeniable that Caitlin Faraday feels something for you beyond friendship."

Jamie considered the idea for a moment. Novarians were supposed to be in tune with the emotions of those around them, but Caitlin couldn't actually like him in that way, right? Did his ineptitude with females and perpetual anxiety around the Princess blind him to some greater truth?

He only shrugged. "Even if I did believe you, not telling her is better than the most likely alternative."

Odonia's face expressed concern with a hint of sadness. "Curious. You charge towards the sharpened blades of the Eeldaroons without reservation, yet you hold within you great fear of revealing the truth of your feelings to the Princess," She paused, hoping for an objection. "I am not pleased by your request, but I shall agree to your wishes," The Novarian said before calling out to Caitlin. "Princess Faraday! It is pertinent that I inform you Jamie Christiansen holds nothing but disdain for you! Do not mistake his fleeting kindness for anything even vaguely resembling affection! To him, you are beneath contempt!"

Jamie knew he would most likely live to regret Odonia's discovery of his secret; Novarians maintained friend's trust under threat of death, but this one carried out her duty in a unique way. He reflexively bit his lip as Caitlin reemerged, lovely as ever in the dark blue hood.

"Thank you for informing me," She quipped. "I wasn't aware. I feared Christiansen liable to drop to his knees and worship the ground beneath my feet."

"On the contrary, but despite his intense distaste for your presence, Sir Jamie of the Christiansen clan enjoys watching you walk." Odonia added.

Caitlin's eyebrow shot up in suspicion.

"B-because I...hate you," Jamie hastily intervened. "Despise you. And I cannot wait to see you walk as far away from me as your strength may take you."

She smiled. "The feeling is mutual."


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter takes place several years earlier when the main characters are much younger

Francis Christiansen hoped for better weather on such a momentous occasion.  
  
The two neighboring kings, Benjamin and Richard, were to meet to bury three years of animosity, and nature saw fit to deliver an overcast sky and a wavering threat of rain. His armor shielded his body from the wind and cold, but the nipping at his face was beginning to agitate him. Not that he would vocalize such objections; five years as a King’s Defender coincided with the development of iron will, at least when it came to silence. He needed several days of careful consideration, and more than a few practice runs with Izzy to scrounge together the courage to ask King Benjamin if his wife and son could be in the audience.  
  
_Isabella Christiansen puffed out her chest, pouted, and placed her fists on her hips. “And what do you ask of me today?”_  
  
_“Your Grace, my King,” He began. “Your Omnipotence-”_  
  
_“Out with it, curr! Or I shall have you fed to a lion!”_  
  
Izzy’s attempt at a baritone made him smile.  
  
“They approach, Your Grace!”  
  
Francis looked up. Jackson was to keep watch at the wall to alert the congregation so King Benjamin could greet his guests, and it was Francis’ job to keep the visiting kingdom’s swords in their place. The family was decent people, and the Kings had been close friends for many years, but a Defender was to prepare for all eventualities. Having the King, the Queen, and the two Princesses nearby out in the open was enough to make even the most cautious assassin salivate. Having Jamie and Izzy near did nothing to quell his anxiety as he marched along the pearl white, cobblestone path above the river that flowed beneath the castle grounds, the King and his family close behind.  
  
With the iron gate parted, Francis could see them approaching. On a white stallion crossing the plains sat Richard Samuelson flanked on all sides by family and knights bearing a golden lion crest on their chain-mail armor. He was followed by hundreds of guests, carried by carriages and horses. Samuelson, slender but agile and swift as a dancer on the battlefield, complemented the massive frame and overpowering will of King Benjamin well. Francis was pleased to see the fire rekindled, even beyond the practical value of the alliance.  
  
Richard cleanly slipped off his horse and opened his arms as he approached.  
  
“Benjamin,” He said, his voice unexpectedly deep for a man with such a thin face and stature. “It is good that we are together again.”  
  
“I’m through with allowing petty squabbles to come between friends,” They embraced. “How’ve you been, Richard?”  
  
“I am well, better now that I am with your lovely family,” Richard smiled as he greeted Mary Faraday with a kiss on the hand. “The most resplendent queen in all the lands,” He looked to his wife after the verbal error. “Discounting you, of course, my dear.”  
  
Everyone in range, including the queens, shared a mild laugh, but King Benjamin looked solemn as if the man spat on his wife and cursed his daughters.  
  
“I invite you to my home, and you insult my Queen as if she were a common dog.”  
  
Whatever hope remained for a newly formed alliance was rapidly dwindling. Richard’s face returned to its natural, stoic state.  
  
“Forgive me if I’ve angered you, my friend.”  
  
The two stood there and considered one another, one confused and the other enraged. Francis ripped the hilt of his sword, ready to strike at a moment’s notice until a hearty, infectious laugh filled the air. Only the King appeared to be in on the joke. He pointed at Richard, keeling over with laughter.  
  
“Look at your face!” He bellowed. “The oldest trick, and you fell for it like a golog!” Benjamin slapped him on the shoulder. “I’m having a joke at your expense, you damn fool! Lighten up!”

* * *

  
  
Izzy acquired a plate of vegetables shortly before Francis arrived at the Great Hall, almost magnetically drawn to the tantalizing aroma of food and the radiant buzzing of laughter. A horde of citizens from both nations intermingled among the tables stretching out across the length of the hall, telling tales, singing songs, and getting drunk as Francis’ comrades maintained a steady, almost parental eye. Typically, he’d get a warm greeting and Jamie would ask about his day, and if he’d slain any Biphate criminals, his attention was elsewhere, and something told Francis nothing less than a Topaz-scaled Dragon tearing off the ceiling would sever the connection.  
  
“I think our son knows what he wants to be when gets older,” Francis commented as he took a seat adjacent to them. “Imagine it: King Jamie Christiansen. It’s a fit.”  
  
Izzy gave her husband a mischievous smile. “I think our son’s more taken with a certain princess than the idea of ruling over the kingdom.” He turned over his shoulder to confirm the accusation: Jamie was focused on someone sitting at the King’s table, and the two princesses, Lilith and Caitlin, were prime suspects. The two were placed next to one another, so it was only guesswork until the former pushed out her chair and took her plate to acquire more food.  
  
Francis turned back and smiled. Jamie was still passively staring, his head resting on his palm. Ages ago, his fellow knights of the King’s Legion had been enthused to inform Francis he had a look of dreamlike wonder when he first laid eyes on Isabella Taylor, a more than accurate descriptor for Jamie’s expression. There was something positively adorable about the thought of his son carrying a flame for the young princess.  
  
“Is that so, Jamie?” He knowingly asked his son. “You have a bit of a crush on Caitlin Faraday?”  
  
The mention of the divine name seemed to send Jamie plummeting back to Earth as his cheeks turned an endearing shade of pink.  
  
“Yeah,” His eyes widened, drawn away from Caitlin. “I mean, ah, yes, I definitely do not.”  
  
Izzy chuckled. “You know, you’re allowed talk to her. She won’t bite.”  
  
His son considered the thought for a moment, his face still burning. “I can’t talk to her! The...the Defenders will kill me!”  
  
“They most definitely will not.” Francis said, but their protests did nothing to mollify Jamie’s anxiety.  
  
Francis Christiansen thanked the Creator every night for blessing him with the chance to watch his son grow into a confident, mature young man. In spite of that, no amount of wisdom imparted by his father or grandfather seemed to help Jamie when it came to approaching women his age. Feeling terrified about approaching someone you found attractive was hardly an uncommon experience, and Francis couldn’t deny experiencing such anxieties well into adulthood. It took him quite a bit of encouragement from friends and mental preparation to approach Izzy.  
  
Like the good father he hoped to be, Francis would do whatever necessary to help his son, who presently seemed intent on not even glancing vaguely in Caitlin’s direction. “What’s the worst that might happen if you walk over and speak with her?”  
  
He toyed with his hands before responding. “The Defenders will have me executed.”  
  
“For what?” Izzy asked.  
  
Jamie clearly hadn’t thought that far ahead. “For attacking the Princess. And...and then, they’ll have you two exiled for raising a treasonous assassin...I think.”  
  
Francis and Isabella shared an amused glance and laughed at the ridiculousness of the prediction. “I can personally attest Princess Caitlin is not nearly as vicious and spiteful as you take her to be.” Francis was primarily assigned with protecting the Queen, but he found both the Princesses to be as pleasent, courteous and respectful as their mother.  
  
“Okay, maybe they won’t kill me, but I’ll say something stupid and embarrass myself in front of everyone,” Jamie remained unconvinced. “And I’ll probably get Father fired. The King will have to fire him if he finds out a Defender’s son thinks his daughter is gorgeous-” He put his fist to his mouth and trailed off.  
  
“What is so awful about her knowing you think she’s pretty and you’d like to talk?” His mother asked, genuinely curious.  
  
The prolonged silence told Francis there was no reason, at least not one Jamie could put into words.  
  
“Alright,” He said, at last conceding. “I’ll give it a chance.”

* * *

  
  
It took little more than a cursory observation to deduce that Caitlin Faraday was not one for parties, beyond her distaste for stuffy, gaudy dresses and being forced to dignify idiots with conversation merely because they were distant cousins to some idiot king.  
  
Today’s party, like the rest, took place in the Great Hall. Constructed over three centuries earlier to fit over one thousand guests on benches beneath high ceilings, Caitlin viewed it as a monument to her ancestors’ vanity. Her contempt was in no way assuaged by her needing to act like a ‘lady’ during what amounted to a celebration of excess.  
  
“Sit up, Caitlin, please.” Her mother made sure to take a seat beside her, perpetually vocalizing every breach of protocol.  
  
“Yes, mother.” Caitlin dutifully complied.  
  
Any woman who hadn’t traded her brain for a shiny object could learn everything about being a ‘lady’ inside a day, but the Princess refused to indulge her mother’s obsession. She didn’t go out of her way to muck up the festivities out of respect for Father, but she’d sooner back-flip off the table and land with a triple axel-twist than sip tea and giggle because some prince cracked a joke that couldn’t be considered accidentally funny.  
  
She wondered what Uncle Harry would say. In all probability, he’d whisper in her ear about how King Samuelson looked and acted like a marionette before excusing the two of them so they could practice archery or the art of stealth and laugh about how enraged Mother would be when she saw how her lady daughter had destroyed yet another priceless dress. The idea brought a sly grin to her face, but also made her wonder how every member of the Davis family could inherit a love of fun and adventure with the lone exception of her mother. The world was a cruel, capricious place.  
  
Caitlin’s eyes scanned the diorama of indulgence stretched out before her, but she was turned away from her ruminations as she made eye contact with a boy around her age, perhaps a year younger. He had soft, brownish hair, big eyes of similar complexion, and clothes which were more than presentable, but were not royalty. She was almost sure he wanted to ask her something, to make some minor requests of her, but whatever confidence he possessed began to dwindle as they continued to make eye contact.  
  
“Hello there.” She said in the direction of the mystery boy.  
  
He dodged her gaze, sucked in his lips, and briskly walked away to a bench near one of her father’s Defenders and a strikingly beautiful lady. It was impossible to articulate why, but she couldn’t help but feel a touch disappointed by his unceremonious departure. Judging character with such an initial assessment was complicated, but he seemed kind enough, a bit shy, and entirely harmless. The overwhelming majority of men, young and old, were too terrified to speak with her or treat like her as an actual human being, most likely out of fear of her father. Those with the courage to do so were, almost without exception, morons.  
  
Should she approach? Instinct informed her there was no danger, especially since she could probably kill him if he tried anything, but Lilith would mercilessly tease her about having an imaginary crush on the young man and Mother would want them to get married. Such ideas were ridiculous, even beyond the fact that girls and boys could be friends with one another, no romantic feelings necessary.  
  
Caitlin didn’t know why she was thinking so much about the young man, or why she made so many assumptions about his character. Perhaps because he had a nice face.  
  
Nice in a way that implied a pleasant demeanor and moral conviction. Not nice in the way her mother and sister would take to mean she found his face appealing, which was entirely not true. Even if such a thing was correct, which, again, it wasn’t, why should that matter?  
  
It was a ludicrous thought, but Caitlin was sometimes grateful the two were unable to intrude on her private thoughts.  
  
Deciding she was a woman capable of making her own choices, Caitlin pushed out the chair, excused herself from the table, and began making her way through the crowd. In all likelihood, their conversation wouldn’t amount to much more than idle chat, but anything that provided respite from her duties as Princess of Amorado was welcome.  
  
She was within spitting distance of the boy and his parents when an all-too-familiar voice called out. “Caitlin! Come, you must meet the King’s nephew, Harold!”  
  
The Princess turned around to find the queen eagerly beckoning her back to the table. Attempting to engage the mystery boy in conversation now would be seen as an act of rebellion, and Caitlin had no intention of embarrassing the Faraday name by starting yet another quarrel with her mother. Taking one final glance at her target, she dutifully returned to her chair.  
  
“What a curious boy.” She remarked before taking a glass in hand.

* * *

  
  
After hours of celebration and merriment, after gallons of mead, after King Benjamin laughed himself hoarse, the Christiansens returned to their home, a decent walk away from the castle. Even at that distance, Jamie’s thoughts remained bound to the nexus of their kingdom. He had been far too embarrassed to discuss the juicy details, certainly not with his parents, but there was no point in trying to disguise his being utterly smitten with Caitlin Faraday. She didn’t do much beyond sit next to her parents and sister and look bored in a bright purple dress, occasionally taking a sip of her drink, but it was more than enough to enchant him. She had all her mother’s soft, almost angelic features and long, flowing, golden brown hair. The cobalt blue of her eyes, however, was distinctly like her father and could easily be seen from leagues away; a beacon of hope that pierced the deepest darkness.  
  
Unfortunately, Jamie never scrounged together the courage to talk to Caitlin. Being the son of a Defender and descended from a long line of knights gave him a certain amount of social capital, enough to earn a seat in the Great Hall, but he’d sooner fight a Greatborn Colossus with a twig and a broken arm than talk to the Princess. The fact that he was able to stand up and consider speaking with her was an incredible feat. He was disappointed with himself, but there was at least some hope of him one day possibly speaking with Caitlin. He laid awake that night, considering every way he might potentially win her heart. If he could barely work up the courage to start a conversation with her at a party, how could he have any hope of sweeping Princess Caitlin off her feet? Beyond his father being a knight and his grandparents’ somewhat successful business, he was little more than an ordinary boy in love with the fairest woman in all the lands. Little more than an insect attempting to extinguish the sun.  
  
The type of guy princesses went for was someone like Isildo Knightheart; a muscular, nigh-invincible hero with a chin that could cut diamonds and a soul of unflinching moral rectitude. A hero who would effortlessly save her from gologs, Eeldaroons, a wicked necromancer, or whatever malformed grotesqueness needed slaying in the legend.  
  
Did Caitlin like funny guys?  
  
Did she like smart guys?  
  
Did she like strong guys?  
  
This was operating under the assumption that Princess Faraday liked guys in the first place. Given that he was more than slightly shy and not amazingly intelligent, Jamie thought his chances could generously be called dismal. The only comfort was that, as far as eleven-year-old boys went, he was pretty muscular, thanks to all the time he spent running around with friends and helping his grandparents with farming.  
  
Then, as if he’d received a divine revelation from the Creator Himself, he stumbled upon an idea of such brilliance that he pressed his hands to the bed and sat up as if preparing to leap up and chase the thought if it tried to flee from his grasp. All at once, Jamie could see the path of his future laid out before him, illuminating as a Summer sky.  
  
He would join the King’s Legion. He’d become a protector of Amorado and its citizenry.  
  
The path would be difficult, no doubt. Jamie didn’t have to be his father’s son to know only the strongest, bravest, most cunning warriors in all the land could hope to earn the right to join the King’s Legion, and only the greatest among them would have a chance of being noticed by the Princess. There was no way of knowing if becoming a knight would solidify his chances of winning Caitlin’s heart, but it most likely wouldn’t hurt and, even if he failed in that particular quest, he’d still be a knight like his father and grandfather. That was worth something.  
  
He smiled as he drifted off to sleep; perhaps training to be a knight would coincide with a higher level of confidence when it came to dealing with the opposite sex. All in due time.  
  
After half an hour of considering the possibilities before him, Jamie concluded he wouldn’t fall asleep until he told his father. Unless someone else knew, the energy might tear itself from his body. The boy got up and made his way to his parent’s bed.  
  
“Father,” Jamie gently shook his dad.  
  
“Jamie,” He said sleepily after a few moments. “Is everything alright?”  
  
Jamie was still caught in the sweltering whirlwind of terror and excitement. The first step in his plan to become a knight would be to inform his father before fear entirely consumed him. He inhaled deeply and let out the truth for the world to know.  
  
“I want to train to become a knight.”  
  
His father’s eyes shot open, burning bright in the darkness. “Jamie, it’s not going to be easy. Are you sure? Do you think you can handle the task? Training alone is more than some can handle.”  
  
Now was the deciding moment. There was still a chance to back out and forget it, continue on as if nothing happened. Even if his father and grandfather were knights, they were both perfectly accepting of Jamie forgoing their legacy.  
  
Jamie nodded. “I do.”  
  
Francis smiled. “I know.”

* * *

  
  
The sun hit his eyes as Jamie woke up the following morning. That only happened when he was up at an early hour.  
  
“Up, Jamie, it’s time to go.”  
  
Jamie propped himself up after rubbing his eyes and found his father beckoning him. Today was his day off, but he was fully clad in his Defender’s armor, replete with the sword.  
  
“What’s going on?” The younger Christiansen mumbled, still tired.  
  
“Today is your first day of training. We’re going to the Eastern Woods.”  
  
Whatever lethargy remained in Jamie was overtaken by unbridled enthusiasm as he sprang out of bed and got dressed with whatever he grabbed first. He sprinted out the front door to catch up with his father.  
  
They’d been walking for around an hour or two by Jamie’s estimate before they arrived at their destination in the forest, although he started sweating sometime earlier. His father suggested wearing heavy clothing to simulate armor better, and he had to maintain a decent jog to keep up with the knight. Presently, both were overlooking a quarry Jamie knew was in some way significant to his grandparents’ bakery. Beyond the trees, Imanese Mountain stood, painted a brown like cinnamon, a towering monolith even as a distant shadow.  
  
“A Knight of the King’s Legion can move like a coursing river through any terrain, in any condition,” Francis began. “Meaning you should have no problem swimming from one end to the other.”  
  
Ordinarily, Jamie would dip his foot in to assess the temperature and whether or not this was some sort of sick prank that ended with him hitting his head on a rock upon entry, but he was a knight now, one who would soon be tasked with carrying the banner of King Benjamin Faraday. He’d learn to move like an eel fleeing from predators if that’s what destiny asked of him.

He looked to his father one last time and dove headfirst into the freezing deep, met with a chill unlike any he felt before.  
  
“Is this some kind of trick? It’s freezing in there!”  
  
Francis gave a knowing smile and crossed his arms. “Our first exercise is simple. This is the coldest lake within fifty kilometers. Swim from here to there and back.”  
  
Jamie could feel goose-flesh on his arms, and his teeth were already chattering. Today was going to be a trial like no other,

* * *

  
  
For Isabella Christiansen, today had been a reasonably tolerable day, one she was finishing with a plate of fruit and toast. A bit frantic with the increase in the level of customers with all the visitors to King Benjamin’s castle from neighboring kingdoms, but nothing particularly unusual.  
  
After years of suggesting, her parents finally hired an employee not related by blood. The two only hired the young lady a strictly ‘trial’ basis, but the fact that they conceded to hiring outside help was a miracle in itself.  
  
Another nice thing was that Jamie wanted to follow in his father’s footsteps and become a knight. She didn’t feel worried. There hadn’t been an all-consuming conflict in over three decades, and most of a knight’s work amounted to standing around looking intimidating in populated districts of Amorado. Did the desire stem from his newfound crush on Princess Caitlin Faraday? One could only speculate…  
  
The front door opened, and in came her husband and son. Francis was looking pleased with himself, and Jamie seemed as if he was going to pass out on the floor.    
  
“Hello, you two,” She said. “Long day?”  
  
“Yes, but a valuable one,” Francis said, taking a seat across from her. “Jamie has taken his first step to knighthood."  
  
She watched Jamie walk right past her towards his bed without a word, his eyes only half open.

* * *

  
Everything ached.  
  
Everything ached, burned, and stung.  
  
Jamie knew from the start that his father’s training regimen was going to be a strenuous one, but this was without question the most exhausting day of his life. There was one day where he spent around eighteen hours helping his grandfather on the farm, but that day did little to prepare him. He fell into the sweet, soft embrace of his bed like a stone crusader toppling over. Lifting his hands and pulling up the covers made his arms feel like they were going to collapse. Running, jumping, climbing, pulling himself up over branches, swimming through a cold that dug into his core, for hours on end, with only a minute here and there to relax.  
  
Ultimately, he wasn’t complaining. Sure, the pain was debilitating, and the idea of finding a new career path popped in his head more than once, but Father was only trying to prepare him for life as a knight of the King’s Legion. One had to be the strongest, smartest, fastest, and most agile even to have a hope of a chance.  
  
And, perhaps more importantly, he had to be the strongest, smartest, fastest, and most agile to even have a hope of a chance with Princess Caitlin Faraday. He was under no illusion becoming a protector of the innocent, strong and brave, would undoubtedly win her heart, but the possibility was there.  
  
Difficult was putting it mildly, but Jamie was not deterred. If anything, the challenge only solidified his resolve. Tomorrow, there was going to be more training, and Jamie was ready.


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter takes place between chapters 1 and 2

Caitlin awoke the following morning feeling strangely lethargic. The light of sun peeking in through the window was annoying her eye, so she shifted slightly and planted herself near Jamie's shoulder.

In itself, waking up was not an unusual occurrence, but there was one distinction which set today apart from most other days of her life: she was warm.

The Princess was grateful to have been blessed with many positive qualities inherited from her parents; athleticism, speed, intellect, and lighting quick reflexes were just a handful, but one thing she deeply resented was a severe vulnerability to the cold. Bundling up was the bare minimum for a restful night and even the most moderate chill of Fall was lethal, so this was definitely a nice reprieve from her constant struggle against the continuous, frigid assault…

...but there was something, a little gremlin in the base of her mind who refused to be poked away. It prevented her from indulging in what should've been a momentous occasion to be cherished.

As usual, Christiansen carried all the blame for her current circumstances. He generated a frankly ridiculous amount of body heat.

The gentle rise and fall of his chest indicated the knight was still asleep, but Caitlin couldn't help herself from gazing up at him. Even when compared to the legion of princes and dukes she encountered throughout her years, he was truly handsome. Combine a chin like a slab of granite, a face not unlike one found on a marble statue of some mythic hero, dancing brown eyes, a sweet, infectious smile, and a physique forged to perfection after years of service to her father, and she would be unsurprised to discover he was betrothed to a breathtakingly beautiful woman back home. Add to that extremely brief flashes of warmth and intelligence, and she felt comfortable concluding his wife was just as smart and charming. If not a wife, there was almost certainly a vast number of females willing to fight each other to the death for a chance with him.

It was difficult to determine his state of mind, but Christiansen looked pretty happy. There was something...endearing about watching the knight at rest. He was, despite her dire need of a more appropriate word, cute.

Cute in the platonic way that a puppy was cute, she quickly added. Not in the way her mother or sister would suggest.

If Lilith were here, she'd likely be rendered a drooling ape incapable of communicating beyond indecipherable stutters about 'hunky' this and 'stud muffin' that. What was it about knights? Bravery, strength, and honor were desirable traits in a partner, but Caitlin was seriously starting to wonder if every Amoradian woman was born with a bizarre affliction that rendered them helpless if a knight of the King's Legion so much as gave them a passing grin. All it took was a sword and some armor to turn the most intelligent and dignified woman into a lovestruck teenager. Not even her own mother was immune from such folly!

Regardless of whatever depraved dark magic gave them such profound power over a majority of womankind, she would not allow herself to be bested by Christiansen. There was nothing wrong with conceding that he was, by any reasonable standard, an attractive man. Like noticing the color of the sky or presence of the sun, saying Christiansen was handsome was a clinical, observable fact. That in no way implied she carried some deeper affection for the young man simply, as if she were some blushing schoolgirl with a crush.

"Hello there."

Caitlin's eyes went wide as his came alive. Christiansen was still sleepy, given the way he was gazing at her, but he oh' so conveniently possessed enough energy to flash that little, knowing smirk.

"I-I was not staring at you!" She said, clearly flustered. "I just happened to be looking in a direction that happened to include you."

Now Christiansen had that look, that little, stupid look of feigned confusion that drove her up a wall. Like a deer that heard her arrow go wide as it zipped past its head. "I never accused you of that," He said, his voice raspy and groggy. "And I don't really mind if you-"

Before he hit her with yet another insipid comment to try and ruin what remained of her patience, Caitlin slipped out of bed. As if waiting for the moment to pounce, the cold overtook her body yet again, the night gown providing little protection from its wrath. Some base instinct begged her to return to the siren's call of the bed and, more importantly, Christiansen's arms. The warmth that bathed her was beyond the finest cloak in Lilith's gallery, and there was some peculiar quality about being close to her companion that fostered a pleasant feeling internally as well.

"Am I too believe this oaf before me is a knight of the King's Legion?" She said, drowning out the clarion call. "Get dressed, or I will leave without you."

Still, unlike her mother and sister, Caitlin was a woman completely unconcerned with her own romantic life. She was a warrior; her wedding dress a thief's garb and her groom a bow of legend. The only rings she wore were those taken off the corpses of the wicked. There was simply no room for someone like Christiansen, unless he, for whatever bizarre reason, carried a desire to join her on the battlefield once this whole business was concluded.

"I'm going to change," She said, even though he was already up, sitting on the edge of the bed facing opposite her. "Turn around," She stopped herself, before Christiansen used the innuendo for his own wicked aims. "I mean, turn around and you lose your eyes, Christiansen."

She imagined the smug smile on his stupid face. "Good morning to you, too, Caitlin."

After hastily putting on her uniform, Caitlin was ready to go. Her partner was only know getting into his armor, so she walked out into the hall, opting to prop herself up with her back to an adjacent wall. She knew Christiansen would leap at the slightest chance to show off his body, and she had no intention of giving him that chance again. When the door creaked open and Christiansen emerged, Caitlin didn't spare him a glance on the not unreasonable assumption he wanted her to bask in the glory of his exposed stomach.

"If you don't have armor on, you're going to die much quicker, I hope you know that," She said as they made their way towards the exit. "I highly doubt you'll be able to charm a gang of gologs or a roving hoard of murderous bandits into submission with your abdominals."

"I hadn't considered the idea." He replied, somewhat confused.

The O'Doererys couldn't see past the fog conjured around his secret heart, but to her, the disguise provided no more protection than parchment armor. She knew plenty of attractive men with tongues sharp as the serrated edges of her arrows, but Christiansen's was a cut above and, worse still, sauteed in the sweetest honey. He liked to act as if he was completely innocent of his rugged looks and boyish charms, but the truth was that he cut through women like Summer heat through snow. If he truly sought to best her, to conquer her like some empty-headed maiden in danger cowering, desperately praying for the arrival of her brave knight, Christiansen would find himself horribly disappointed.

As they approached the exit, the sun was just barely poking through the trees, but there was enough light for a clear path through the forest. Caitlin preferred waking in the early hours for a multitude of reasons. Of course, getting the most out of every day was important, but being an early riser allowed her to evade her mother's vigilant eyes. Perhaps leaving without so much as a written note of thanks was somewhat insulting to the O'Doererys, but she was on a mission, and nothing would interfere-

"Oi!" Caitlin's fingers bit into her palm as a very familiar voice halted them. And they were so close to freedom. "Where the bloody 'ell do you think you two are goin'?"

They turned to find Carlota, wearing a massive smock ravaged by stains and her typically jovial smile.

"Mrs. O'Doerery, we're very grateful for everything you've done for us, but we really need to get moving."

"Not without full stomachs you ain't!"

As if waiting for the right moment to intrude, Caitlin's stomach growled, enticed by the prospect of something, anything that might fill her up. Her last meal was right before she left the castle, and she anticipated Christiansen would never permit her to leave after the dwarves offer. He'd doubtless take the opportunity to lecture her on the importance of a well balanced diet.

"They're very good cooks, Caitlin." Jamie offered.

* * *

 

"We been up hours gettin' everythin' ready for you two," Carlota excitedly explained, leading the two deeper into the back rooms of the complex. "That lazy schakwrah that is me' husband was grumbilin' about gettin' up all early like' and cookin' a whole big meal, but I told em' to suck it up, cuz we got our two most favorite humans here, and we ain't lettin' em' leave while they're starvin'!"

The dwarf lead them into back into their office and towards their living quarters. Deep inside, they found Carlot sitting at a square table clearly meant for four generously proportioned guests, a buffet of food set out before him. Apparently, he couldn't wait for them to begin eating, as what must have been an oversized cucumber was hanging from his mouth as he gormlessly stared at them.

"Carlot," His wife managed something between a snap and a whisper, trying and failing to disguise her anger. "What in the name of King Benjamin do you think you're doin?"

"Ibeencookinforthreehours," Carlot mumbled. "Yousnoozeyoulose." He continued chewing unabated.

Carlota turned to Caitlin, failing to make eye contact. "Please forgive him, Princess Caitlin, cuz the three ah' us the only ones with manners in this whole place."

"It's quite alright, Mrs. O'Doerery. In truth, I can't blame him, I'm very hungry myself."

"You see?" Carlota said as she took a seat beside her husband, meaning Caitlin was resigned to sit next to Jamie. "Dah' Princess is starvin', but she ain't gonna savage this whole lovely breakfast like some sort of starved wolf."

"Princess Caitlin ain't the one gettin' up at an unholy hour to cook a whole buffet." He offered in rebuke.

"Are they always like this?" She asked Christiansen. They seemed so prone to arguing and fighting, she was surprised to hear  
their marriage lasted this long.

"For as long as I've known them. It's something of a miracle they haven't killed one another."

Even outside the dining room, the aroma made Caitlin's mouth salivate with desire, but that desire was revealed to be an elaborate betrayal on the part of her her olfactory senses. Caitlin liked to think of herself as someone learned and cultured. Dwarven food, however, was a topic which evidently slipped her years of research and study, as presented before her were meals presumably made from ingredients found in the blackest crevices of the Netherworld with recipes meant to signal the end of mortal days; gray, contoured paste forcibly jammed in a bowl, yellow wedges with dark green centers she was certain would crack her teeth, and what must've been the corpses of insects. Ravenous hunger was quickly becoming the lesser of two painful evils.

"Shall I make you a plate, Princess?" Jamie asked, his plate already assembled.

A woman never forgot her manners, even when flanked on all sides by things that repulsed her. "Oh, that's quite kind of you, but I think I'll just have a glass of water."

"Aww, you don't gotta' be so dang modest all the time, Princess," Carlot said with a mouthful of food. "You have whatever you like."

She pointed to the gray paste, which seemed liked the least horrendous of the options presented. "I'll have some of...that."

After Christiansen so courteously gave her a full plate overflowing with the nasty stuff, she scraped up a small teaspoon and carefully brought it to her lips, as if the dwarves might be using the meal to poison her. At the first taste, her eyes bulged, this time in rapturous joy. The paste tasted like something her father served for breakfast, something that immediately washed over the taste buds with a sweet, comforting sensation. Like flapjacks covered in powdered sugar. "Oh, Heaven's Mercy," She said, almost stabbing the plate with her spoon to take a huge bite. "This is delicious."

"Told you." Jamie whispered. For once, his sly smirk was endearing rather than frustrating. The dwarves similarly shared a bright smile as they as the four dove into the buffet. It wasn't long before Carlot continued the conversation.

"So," He said with another mouthful of food. "Can I ask you tew' somethin'? Cuz it's been killin' me all night: how'd you meet?"

Caitlin exchanged a curious look with Christiansen. "Uh…" She dumbly said. "We met in the…"

"I'm her Defender," He interceded. "The Princess wanted to visit her cousin who lives near the mountains, just past the Rialar's Cavern. As her Defender, I'm to protect Caitlin from all potential dangers," Christiansen continued before making eye contact with her. "Not that she requires protection."

He must've anticipated that second part would get under her skin, so it was a nice touch, one that made Caitlin smile. The cover story was some nice quick thinking on his part, too.

"Oh, Jamie!" Carlota reached over to 'lightly' punch him in the shoulder. "Yah' didn't tell us the King promoted you to a bloody Defender! Look at you, just like yer' father!"

"Yes, the appointment was two weeks ago. So far…" Caitlin added, considering if a snide remark might be prudent. "No complaints."

"You hear that?" Carlot said to his wife. "Jamie achieves his dream of guardin' his favorite princess, and we don't hear about it till' two weeks later!"

Something about that comment made Caitlin eye her hosts curiously. Perhaps it was a simple miscommunication to be attributed to their idiosyncratic behavior, but what could they have meant by Christiansen 'achieving his dream' of 'guarding his favorite princess'? Was it an ironic jab at her expense? Neither of them seemed particularly subtle or nuanced when it came to humor, and they both seemed completely genuine in their appreciation of her father.

"I don't mean to be rude, but I'm just so curious, what did you mean by-"

"Hope you two didn't mind nappin' together in the same bed n' all," Carlot cut her off. "Me wife told me how much you two have a bad case ah' dah' freezeneck for each other, and I know Jamie' been smitten since-"

"Carlot!" Carlota snapped.

"What?" He coughed. "You said yourself it yourself. The two ah' them are like a pair ah' puppy dogs nappin' under a waterfall or somethin'," He said. "I heard from you that she's as dumb for him as he is for her-"

"That's enough outta you, you stupid lichtop!"

"Was' the problem?" Carlot asked, genuinely confused. "The boy's always been a bit shy, 'specially around pretty girls, and he's been in love eva' since he saw-"

"If you don't stuff yer' fist in yer' mouth, I'll do it for ya'!"

The dwarves continued to argue, but Caitlin was too busy studying Christiansen's expression to take notice. His cheeks were painted with a light, pink dust and he suddenly developed an intense fascination with his plate. There was something about seeing the knight so thoroughly embarrassed that made it impossible to contain a wicked smile. Was her initial assumption incorrect? Was Christiansen miserably awful with women? The mere mention of his mystery love was enough to render him speechless, indicating he was painfully shy. Luckily, it confirmed he wasn't married, but now she was desperate to uncover the woman's identity. If gently prodding at Christiansen's romantic life provoked this severe of a reaction, what wonders would follow greater knowledge? And who was this mystery girl?

"Is everything alright, Jamie?" She asked in the sweetest tone sarcasm permitted.

He nodded rapidly. "Yes, yes, all's well."

"Mmm," Caitlin said. "Perhaps you'd prefer different company. I don't think our hosts would mind too much if we invited the young lady in question to join us," She gave a knowing smile to the dwarves. "And where might I-uh, we find this mystery woman? I don't believe I've heard a name or a location."

"Oooh, Miss Faraday, you ain't understandin' what I'm sayin'," Carlot said. "You see, she's already here, sittin' right in fron-"

Carlot was vaguely pointing in her direction when, without warning, Caitlin stood and dashed out of the room. Jamie, chewing on some berries, could only watch her leave. It took him a second to realize what just happened before he grabbed his sword and followed.

"Stay right here. Don't leave until we come back." He called out as he left.


End file.
